


After

by tamerofdarkstars



Category: One Piece
Genre: Domesticity, First Kiss, Fluff, Gratuitious Dish Washing, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamerofdarkstars/pseuds/tamerofdarkstars
Summary: Adrenaline spills a secret. This is the conversation that happens afterwards.





	After

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact, this fic's working title was "soft zosan". 
> 
> when in the series is this set? ehhhhhhhhh don't worry about it

"Hey. Can I help?"

Sanji paused, up to his elbows in soapy water. Zoro stood in the doorway, not coming closer but not retreating either. He was holding himself a little stiffer than usual.

Waiting. Watching. Letting Sanji make the call.

"Be my guest," he said finally, nodding at a rag hanging on the nearby towel rack. Zoro crossed behind him and grabbed the towel, picking up a wet plate from the rack.

For a few moments, they worked in silence, Sanji going through the motions of of scrubbing the dinner dishes and handing them off to Zoro to dry.

They'd done this a lot, he realized. Cleaned up the kitchen in companionable silence. How long had Zoro been wandering in to help him clean up? And when had it ceased to be strange, the silence easy instead of awkward?

Zoro was always a warm, solid presence at his shoulder.

"Hey."

Someone Sanji could always rely on – not just in battle, but around the ship too. When had that happened?

"Oi, cook."

Sanji snapped out of the daze, realizing that Zoro was waiting on him, waiting for the dish that was in his motionless hands.

"Oh. Sorry."

Sanji washed the plate and handed it over. Zoro took it, but didn't lift the towel to dry it, letting it drip on the floor instead.

"Should we talk about it?" he asked quietly.

Sanji stared at the surface of the dishwater, rocking gently in the sink to the rhythm of the ship. "Nothing to talk about."

Zoro snorted. "What, so everyone in the crew goes around kissin' you like that?"

Sanji froze, Zoro's words bringing everything flooding back in sharp sudden clarity. The pounding of blood in his ears as the battle raged. The tight dance of movement as he and Zoro flowed and fought and stepped around each other, wiping out half their enemies on their own.

The wild-eyed grin on Zoro's face as they'd faced each other, adrenaline pulsing hot and high in his cheeks, flushing his skin.

That split second of stretched time before Zoro stepped forward, sweeping him close and kissing him firmly on the mouth.

Sanji's face was hot and he cursed under his breath, soapy fingers gripping the edge of the sink. "No," he said finally. "They don't."

Zoro was silent for a moment, jaw tight. "Listen," he said, and something in his voice made Sanji look up at him. "I don't..."

Zoro paused, frustration etched heavy in the scowl on his face, "I don't want... We just barely stopped bitchin' at each other every thirty seconds. I like... I mean, I don't want..."

He broke off, growling a wordless angry noise, and dragged the rag over the face of the plate.

Sanji waited, watching him as he dried the dish and put it on the shelf. Finally, Zoro looked over at him, meeting his eyes.

"I don't want my fuck up to ruin... this. Us."

Sanji held out his hand and Zoro handed him the towel. He dried his hands, his movements slow, thoughts churning as he pondered Zoro's words.

"So it was a mistake. An accident?"

Zoro paused and studied him. Clearly, that hadn't been what Zoro had expected him to say.

But one of the things Sanji admired about Zoro was how carefully he chose his words. How he was never anything but unflinchingly honest. How whenever he spoke seriously, it was always worth listening.

"No," Zoro said quietly, and something warm bloomed heavy behind Sanji's ribs. "It wasn't a mistake."

Sanji twisted the towel between his fingers. "Good."

"Good?"

Sanji shot Zoro a stern look and tossed the towel onto the counter. He reached into his breast pocket for his cigarettes, tapping one out of the box and replacing the pack in his pocket.

"It's not like we haven't been moving towards this for a while. Let's step outside. I need a smoke."

Zoro stared at him for a beat before he laughed, softly, shaking his head. "I never can read you, Cook. Shit."

He raked his fingers through his hair roughly and Sanji bit back a smirk, heading for the door. Zoro, as always, stepped in sync with him. They'd been fighting together for so long, it was like second nature.

Inevitable.

They stepped onto the deck, which was surprisingly quiet. Night had taken over while they’d been in the galley, the moon settling easily into her throne. Sanji lit his cigarette, inhaling deep, the tip flaring bright orange.

Zoro crossed to the railing, leaning on it as he stared out at the stars glittering over the gentle waves.

Sanji blew out a breath of smoke, watching it dissipate, enjoying the companionable silence.

Zoro broke first. "So you're not pissed?"

Sanji took another drag on the cigarette before responding. "Nah." He glanced at the back of Zoro's head, at the hunch in his shoulders, and realized suddenly that Zoro was flying blind. Zoro, who always put the crew before his own personal feelings.

Zoro, who’d twisted a towel between dexterous fingers and told him he didn’t want to ruin their—

Their friendship.

They were friends. Crewmates. _Nakama_.

How long had Zoro planned to keep his mouth shut if adrenaline hadn't spilled his secret for him?

Decision made, Sanji stepped to the railing next to Zoro, standing so close their shoulders brushed.

He looked sideways at Zoro, waiting. Smoke curled lazily from the burning end of the cigarette between his fingers.

Finally, Zoro glanced over at him, and when their eyes met, it was the easiest thing in the world to lean in and catch Zoro's lips in a kiss.

Zoro's mouth was soft, a juxtaposition to the rest of him, yielding easily when so much of him was always poised to fight.

Neither moved to get closer, to deepen the kiss. It seemed to last forever and was over in an instant.

They separated with a puff of air, a shared breath.

A shared, almost shy grin.

Wordlessly, Sanji turned back to the ocean, raising his cigarette to his lips, tasting smoke and Zoro on the inhale.

There they stood, shoulder to shoulder, watching the stars wink in and out as the ocean stretched on.

High above them, a figure rocked gently back and forth, balanced in the rigging as easily as if he were lounging in a hammock, his straw hat pulled down low over his eyes.

He smiled, lips curving into a pleased grin, and the ship sailed ever on beneath the full moon.

  



End file.
